


A Canadian in Paris

by F1_rabbit



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drama & Romance, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-15 10:29:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11804187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F1_rabbit/pseuds/F1_rabbit
Summary: Lance had a perfect life, yet he felt like something was missing, and then fate handed the perfect opportunity - a chance to spend a summer in Paris as an exchange student.





	A Canadian in Paris

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AngelinaZebi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelinaZebi/gifts).



Lance lived an idyllic life in sunny Canada. He had his friends and family around him, and his father’s fortune meant that he could indulge his passions, including his love of karting.

But he felt like there was something missing.

He wanted to travel, to see a world different to his own. And then one day, fate handed him the perfect opportunity.

Lance was sitting in his French class, studiously taking notes for his exams, when he saw a sheet of paper pinned to the wall.

There was a picture of the Eiffel Tower, and little French flags forming a border around the page, but that wasn’t what attracted his attention.

_Spend a summer in France! Take part in our exchange programme - Open to all students._

Underneath was an email address, and Lance scribbled it down in the margin of his notebook.

He was fluent in French, he grew up speaking it, but actually getting to spend time in France, talking to real French people. That was exactly what he dreamed of.

The only question was, how would he get his parents to agree to it?

*

Lance had been dropping hints about how having practical experience would look good when he finished university, but he wasn’t sure how to ask his parents about spending the summer abroad.

His dad had told him that he could intern at the family business, and as much as it was a good opportunity, he didn’t want people to think he’d only got the job because he was the boss’s son.

But a summer exchange programme would see him treated like any other student, and he liked that idea.

That evening, over dinner, Lance picked at his food, waiting for the perfect opportunity to tell his parents.

“Chloe was asking if you wanted to spend some of the summer with her and her wife?” his mum said, and Lance mumbled something about calling her and agreeing on dates.

“What’s wrong, you’re barely eating?”

Lance looked over at his dad, his grey hair framing his wrinkles, and he knew he had to talk to his parents before they worried about him.

“I know you were hoping that I’d intern at the company this summer… but there’s a student exchange programme at uni, and I was hoping that I could spend the summer in France.”

“That sounds great.”

“You’re not disappointed?”

“Why would we be disappointed?” His mum reached out to hold his hand, and Lance smiled. “We just want you to be happy.”

“So, I can go to France?” Lance grinned, excitement surging through his veins.

“If that’s what you want to do, we’ll support you all the way.”

***

Exam season felt never ending, and Lance had started to think that time would stop completely before the summer came round.

But then he was packing, and he felt a moment of hesitation. What if he didn’t like France? What if it wasn’t what he expected it to be?

He wanted an adventure, but what if it was boring?

“I am going to have fun,” he said out loud to himself, laughing at how silly it was. “I am going to have a wonderful time in Paris.”

He sat on his suitcase so that he could squash it shut, the zip creaking as he let go, and he felt the excitement return.

A whole summer in Paris, where no-one knew who he was, or who his father was.

Lance squeaked with happiness, this was the beginning of an exciting new chapter of his life.

*

His sister had driven him to the airport, sparing him a long, drawn-out goodbye with his parents.

“Have fun, little bro.”

“I will.”

“Text me when you land.”

She waved goodbye as he wandered up to security, the smile on his face growing as he got closer to his dream.

The flight was long, and he dreamt of summer mornings waking up to the sight of the Eiffel Tower, drinking coffee and eating croissants as he chatted with the other students.

He could picture it all now, hanging out with people who would end up being friends for life, all sharing stories and exploring the city together.

Lance wondered what his flatmates would be like, and if they would be able to speak each other’s languages. Apart from summer camps, he’d never lived away from his parents, but he was sure that he could manage on his own.

He was no slouch in the kitchen, and he could work the washing machine without flooding the house. Everything else he’d be able to figure out as he went.

Watching French films, filled with romance and beautiful scenery, had him longing for his own summer fling. Recently, a lot of his friends had met their special someone, same for his sister and her wife, but he’d never had a relationship of his own.

This was his chance to change that.

***

Far away, a tall and handsome man slicked his dark hair back off his forehead, and went back to wiping down tables.

He checked that he had his textbooks before locking up the café for the evening. The low summer sun blinded him as he rode through the streets of Paris, his bag slung over his shoulder.

Esteban would have loved to study full-time, but his parents couldn’t afford it, so he worked in the café, and took classes at night. The café was mostly filled with tourists, but that was true of everywhere in Paris, and his language skills meant that he could charm them so that they left good tips.

As if he wasn’t busy enough, he taught basic language classes, and in return the university gave him somewhere to live. His flat was little more than a dorm room with a tiny kitchenette, but given how expensive it was to live in Paris he was grateful to have a roof over his head.

At least he didn’t have to worry about getting homesick. Évreux was less than two hours away, and although he didn’t get time to go home often, it was nice knowing that his family wasn’t far away.

For someone that spent so much time around people, he often felt lonely, wishing for someone to come home to, someone to share all the funny stories that had happened to him during the day. Even the simple comfort of someone to watch movies with, and argue about which subtitles they should put on.

Esteban chained up his bike outside the languages building. It looked sad compared to the rest of the shiny new bikes, its paint chipped and the seat worn.

The fading spring blossoms heralded the start of the summer, and he was going to be busier than ever. So, he put away all his thoughts of romance, leaving it for the future, a magical place where he hoped the love of his life was waiting for him.

***

Lance had got a train from the airport, and then spent over an hour wandering through the streets of Paris, soaking it all in as he searched for the flat he was going to call home for the next six weeks.

He watched as the sun set, the lights on the Eiffel Tower springing into life, and he stood awe-struck at the sight of it, unable to believe that he was here.

Paris, in all its beautiful and romantic glory.

He was going to make sure that he treasured every second of it.

*

The building he was staying in was a grand old building, and he struggled to fit his suitcase through the narrow doorway. He stumbled as he walked up the worn stone steps, dragging his suitcase behind him, and by the time he reached the third floor he was glad for the break.

The landing was dark, and he knocked on the door, hoping that there was someone there to let him in.

He froze as he remembered that the confirmation letter had said something about picking up keys from the international students’ office, but then there were sounds coming from inside the flat, and Lance relaxed.

“Hi.”

The man who answered the door was a little shorter than him, with a wide smile and deep blue eyes.

“Hi, you must be Lance, right?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Max.” He stood back from the door, making space for Lance to squeeze past him. “You’re the last one here.”

There were voices coming from what Lance assumed was the living room, and there was a sound that he hadn’t heard in a long time.

Table football.

He was instantly transported back to being a child, and his eyes lit up at the sight of its worn wooden players and the dented handles.

Two guys were standing either side of it, one looked like he could almost be Max’s brother, the same pale skin and mushroom-like hair.

“This is Stoffel.” Max pointed at him as he gave a little wave, the game paused as he sipped at a can of beer. “And this is Pascal.”

Pascal had warm brown skin, the high cheekbones of a supermodel, and a flicker of a smile that said people would feel honoured to see his full smile.

“Hi, I’m Lance. Nice to meet you.”

There wasn’t room to move with Max blocking the doorway, and Lance was aware that his suitcase was taking up most of the hallway.

“I guess I should unpack.” Lance didn’t want to do it, his mind still jetlagged from travelling, but he knew that it would be easier if he did it now.

“Forget that, we’re all here, we’re in Paris,” Stoffel said, downing the last of his beer, “We should go out and explore.”

Pascal nodded, and Max grinned, his face crinkling up as he rubbed his hands together.

“I’ll show you to the bedroom.” Max stuck his tongue out, and Lance winked at him, laughing along with the others.

Lance grinned, he was here, in Paris, and his flatmates seemed fun.

He was going to have an awesome summer.

*

Lance slung his suitcase on the bed, there wasn’t space on the floor for it. The bedroom was a single room, and it definitely wasn’t designed to hold two single beds pushed up against each wall, with a small amount space underneath to store things, and a rail hanging over the end of the bed instead of a wardrobe. Completing the claustrophobic effect were two bedside tables that fitted in the gap between them, and they left little space for Lance to stand, never mind Max too.

Max was sitting cross-legged on the bed, pictures of friends, and his mum and sister, scattered around him as he sorted through them. He looked at the bare walls, the old eggshell blue paint flaking, before taking out a pack of chewing gum from his jeans pocket, his lips smacking as he chewed.

“I think this place needs a few home touches.” Max’s laugh was soft and warm, and Lance smiled, wishing that he’d thought of bringing photos. But he had all his photos of his friends and family on his phone, and his laptop, so he wasn’t going to be homesick for long.

Lance threw on a nice shirt, spraying deodorant as Max coughed.

“Sorry.”

“It’s cool, the bathroom doesn’t even have a window, you’d probably end up knocking yourself out with that.”

Max leant over to open the window above his bed, the chill of the cool evening air sending a shiver down his spine.

“Ready to go explore?” Max bounced off the bed, brushing up against Lance as the bed hit the back of his calves.

“Sorry.”

“It’s cool, we’re going to have to get used to bumping into each other.” Lance smiled, and he wondered if the others were having the same problems. “Let me guess, the other room is bigger, and Stoffel and Pascal got here first.”

“Sort of.” Max chuckled. “I got here first, but the other bedroom has a bunk bed, and I’d only end up hitting my head on the bunk above, or the ceiling, so I let Stoffel and Pascal have the room.”

“Tall people problems.” Lance laughed, and Max nodded in agreement.

The place looked homelier with photos stuck beside Max’s bed, and Lance took a minute to let it all sink in.

This was his home for the next six weeks.

*

It hadn’t taken the four of them long to find a wine bar where a bottle wasn’t going to break the bank. Not that they wanted to go to a touristy place, that defeated the point of being here.

Lance had been happy to let the others lead the way. Stoffel had done his research on where to go if they wanted to blend in with the locals, and they were all buzzing with excitement when they arrived.

After they’d shown their IDs, they’d found a seat overlooking the sights of Paris, all sparkling like stars that had fallen to Earth.

A bottle of red wine sat between them, the anticipation building as they waited for it to breathe, and Lance realised that the conversation wasn’t in French.

Pascal poured the wine as Stoffel blushed.

“Do you speak German?”

“No, well, not more than a few common phrases.” Lance paused, wondering if listing his languages would sound like bragging, but it was his area of expertise. “I speak French and English, like everyone else in Quebec, as well as Italian, Spanish, Hebrew, and Arabic fluently, plus I’ve got a few others that I could hold a conversation in, but sadly not German.”

“That beats my four,” Max said, laughing as he reeled them off. “Just Dutch, French, English, and German for me.”

“Same here,” Stoffel added, smiling as they all turned to look at Pascal.

“I have never felt so inadequate with my three languages.” Pascal smirked, sipping at his wine before elaborating. “Only German, English, and French.”

“I’m studying languages, so it would look bad if I didn’t have a list of languages as long as my arm.”

“They are long arms.” Max nudged him with his elbow, and Lance was glad that he hadn’t picked up his wine glass yet. “I’m studying mechanical engineering.”

“Computer science,” Stoffel said, raising his glass.

“Psychology.” Pascal raised an eyebrow, holding out his glass.

Lance finally picked up his wine, the deep red liquid coating the sides as the lights glinted off it.

“To new friends.”

“New friends.”

*

Once the ice was broken, the conversation was easy. By the time they left the bar there were seven bottles of wine stacked up on their table, and one very drunk Pascal sitting on the floor under it.

Max had slung his arm around Pascal, and Lance had done the same, glad that their flat wasn’t too far away. Pascal had been slurring the words, ‘I love you,’ as they stumbled down the street, which Max had found amusing.

“You don’t even know me yet.” Max stuck his tongue out, although that was more for Lance’s benefit than Pascal’s, given that his eyes weren’t open. “I’ll break your heart.”

“You look like a heart breaker,” Stoffel said, laughing as he playfully slapped Max on the bum, making them all giggle.

“So do you.”

“Me?” Stoffel batted his eyelashes at Max, and Lance felt like a third wheel. It was a familiar feeling, his friends spending more time with their girlfriends and boyfriends than with him, and even when they did hang out, their attention was much more focused on their loved ones. Not that he blamed his friends for that. If he had someone special, he’d make sure that they felt worshipped like the god or goddess that they were.

Getting Pascal up the narrow staircase had taken some serious team work, and Lance had got the task of holding Max steady as he walked Pascal up the stairs, Stoffel in front to catch Pascal in case he fell forwards.

Lance would be lying if he said he wasn’t admiring Max’s bum in his jeans, his hands resting on the small of his back, as close as he could get without seeming handsy. Although from the way Max and Stoffel acted around each other, he was sure that Max wouldn’t mind if he pinched his bum.

The second that the door was open, Pascal seemed to sober up enough to walk to bed without falling over, and Max headed for the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Lance heard Stoffel laughing, and he peered into the room to see Pascal sleeping on the bottom bunk, cuddled into the pillow.

“I guess he’s in no fit state to take the top bunk tonight.” Stoffel snorted in laughter, stripping off without batting an eyelid before jumping on to the top bed with all the agility of a gymnast. “At least I don’t have to worry about being thrown up on during the night.”

Lance groaned at the image as Max brushed past him with a glass of water, getting Pascal to take a few sips before sitting it on the bedside table.

“There’s always space in my bed if you’re interested.” Max winked at Stoffel, and Lance shook his head.

“I don’t have sex on a first date.” Stoffel stuck his tongue out, getting comfy on the bed as Max dragged his eyes over him.

“If you change your mind, you know where I am.” Max switched the light off as he left, Lance still standing awkwardly in the doorway. “Do you want a beer?” Max asked, pulling the bedroom door shut.

“Sure. I’m still on Canadian time.” Lance wandered towards the small living room, it was as crowded as the rest of the flat, the football table taking up half the space, and there was barely space for him to sit on the sofa and stretch his legs without touching the tv.

“I wish I had that excuse, I’m just a night owl.” Max picked up one of the controllers for the PlayStation, handing it to Lance before grabbing the other one. “Do you like racing games?”

“I love them.”

Max smiled at the screen flickered into life, bathing them in a blue light, the low roar of the engines sounded loud compared to the dead of night.

The sun was peeking over the horizon when Lance finally went to bed, a collection of empty beer bottles surrounding him and Max.

***

Lance woke with a jolt, the sound of Stoffel and Pascal cheering loud enough to have him rushing through in his boxers to see what was happening.

They were playing FIFA, and from the way that Pascal was grinning, he’d clearly won.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” Stoffel put down the controller, and Pascal looked apologetic.

Lance tried to stifle a yawn, but it was no use, he’d only had four hours sleep, and he wouldn’t be functional until he’d got his caffeine fix.

“If you know somewhere that does good coffee, all will be forgiven.” Lance laughed, stretching as he adjusted to being awake.

“I should do,” Stoffel said, waving his phone. “You go wake up Max, and I’ll find us a real Parisian café.”

“Deal.”

Lance wandered back through to the bedroom, where Max was awake, and the way that he dragged his eyes over him put a smile on his face.

“Looking good.” Max winked at him before sitting up, rubbing at his eyes as he yawned. Even half-awake and with bags under his eyes he was still an attractive man.

“You’re not that bad looking yourself.” Lance smiled, both of them sniggering when their eyes met. “We’re heading out to get coffee if you want to come.”

“Sure, give me five minutes to get ready.”

Lance resisted the urge to check out Max’s bum as he headed for the bathroom, and Lance rushed to get changed, he didn’t want to wait a minute longer than necessary for his coffee.

The morning sun made him feel energised, the warmth spreading through his body and shaking away the tiredness.

Max and Stoffel were walking ahead, Max reaching out to hold Stoffel’s hand as he laughed. Lance had assumed he was a flirty drunk, but it seemed like it was Max’s default setting, although if he’d had as little sleep as him, maybe he was still drunk.

Pascal chatted away about how he spent his last summer in Mauritius, where his mother’s family was from, and it sounded beautiful.

Lance knew that he was living the dream for many Canadians, who longed to be able to visit Paris.

“Here we are.” Stoffel held his arm out as though he was their tour guide, and Lance’s stomach rumbled at the smell of the fresh coffee.

The café was a little place on the corner, tucked away down a small alley, with wrought iron tables and chairs scattered outside. If you sat at the right angle, and looked out down the alley, you could see a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower.

But Lance wasn’t interested in that, he was only interested in the coffee, sightseeing could wait until later.

They sat at a table outside, arranged in a horseshoe shape so that no-one had to sit with the sun shining in their eyes.

And then Lance saw him.

A man so beautiful that he took his breath away.

Their waiter, Esteban.

Lance had never seen anyone so handsome, his self-confidence radiating out with every bouncy step that he took with his gorgeous long legs. His slim black jeans made him look even taller, which was saying something considering Lance himself was over six foot. His smile was genuine and kind, his uneven teeth made him even more adorable, the slight pinkness to his cheeks giving him a permanent blush. Even his shirt looked perfect on him, white with pale pink stripes, fitted nicely over his toned chest, the sleeves rolled up to his elbow, showing off his bulging forearms as he carried heavy trays filled with plates and cups. And the bright pink bowtie was the icing on the cake.

Esteban was so stunningly beautiful that Lance forgot how to speak, not just in French, but in every language.

“What can I get for you?” Esteban looked at Lance first, who was sitting there with his mouth hanging open, his eyes wide as he struggled to give Esteban an answer.

Esteban’s soft French accent left Lance weak at the knees, and he was glad that he was sitting down, otherwise he’d have probably ended up falling over on the spot and making a fool of himself.

Lance could feel his cheeks getting red, but he still couldn’t speak, so Max stepped in and ordered for him.

“He’s still hungover and sleep deprived,” Max said, making Esteban laugh, and Lance felt a little flare of jealousy. “He’ll have the biggest, strongest coffee that you offer, and the sweetest pastry.”

Esteban’s smile shone out, and Lance felt like the sun had dimmed in comparison to it.

He took everyone else’s order, the others all opting for the biggest, strongest coffee, and enough cakes to feed a small country.

Lance was still blushing and staring when Esteban left, and it wasn’t until he was out of sight that Lance slumped back in his chair, cursing himself for being so awkward in front of Esteban.

He was able to mumble the word thanks when Esteban returned, his cheeks still warm as he placed a giant cup of milky coffee, and a sandwich, down in front of Lance.

“I made this just for you,” Esteban said, and Lance felt squishy inside, his heart racing at the fact that this coffee serving angel had made a sandwich for him. “Seven sugars in the coffee, and this,” he said, pointing to the sandwich, “This is the best hangover cure in the world, a fresh baguette filled with Cantal cheese and butter.”

“Thank you.” Lance smiled, his heart still racing as he gazed into Esteban’s eyes, watching them sparkle. Esteban stood waiting, resting his hand on Lance’s shoulder.

“Go on, take a bite.” Esteban smiled, encouraging him to eat and Lance took a huge bite. “I call it ‘The Esteban’.”

Everyone laughed, even Lance with his mouth full. The noises Lance made as he ate were nothing short of pornographic, and the way that Esteban bit his lip while he watched Lance eat tipped the scales from crush to head over heels in love.

“Can I have a bite?” Max asked, fluttering his eyelashes at Lance.

“Sure.” Lance held out the sandwich so that Max could take a bite, but then a worrying thought crossed his mind. What if Esteban thought they were together, like together in a romantic way.

“That is amazing.” Max’s voice was breathless, and his cheeky grin showed that he was flirting, but was it directed at him, or Esteban?

He wished that he had Max’s confidence, so that he could brazenly flirt with everyone that he found cute. Although given that he was living with three attractive guys maybe it was for the best that he focused on flirting with Esteban.

Even though he’d only said four words to him, thank you, twice, he was sure that Esteban was the love of his life, his soulmate.

“Can I get you guys anything else?”

“How about your phone number?” Max asked, and Lance fought to keep his smile on his face.

Esteban scribbled something down on his pad, folding the piece of paper before handing it to Max. Pascal gave Lance a playful nudge, leaning in so that he could whisper, “Max doesn’t waste any time, does he?”

Lance nodded, trying not to look as disappointed as he felt.

Max waited until Esteban had left before unfolding the scrap of paper, but his face was pure confusion.

“What does it say?”

“It says, ‘I’m not allowed to flirt with the customers. You wouldn’t want me to get into trouble, would you?’ And then there’s a kiss.” Max paused, looking over to where Esteban was cleaning the coffee machine. “I like a challenge.”

Lance let out a little laugh, Esteban was the only one working, so he could have given Max his number and no-one would have known. Maybe he wasn’t into guys and he was just trying to be polite? Or maybe he wasn’t into Max? After all, he didn’t make Max his own special sandwich.

Esteban smiled at them every time he walked past to serve other customers, and he waved goodbye as they wandered down the street, off to play tourist for the day with the other exchange students.

“Feel better for coffee?” Stoffel asked, and Lance smiled, he definitely felt more human now, but that was all to do with Esteban.

“We should go back there sometime,” Lance said, trying not to sound too eager, and Max nodded in agreement.

“I think we should have breakfast there every morning.”

***

Max hadn’t been joking when he said that he liked a challenge. Pascal seemed happy to watch Max flirt and be shot down every day, but after a week Stoffel was starting to look bored by it, although his face was hard to read.

Even if it wasn’t for Esteban, the coffee was still better than anywhere else they’d tried, and the food was like heaven.

But he couldn’t lie to himself, seeing Esteban made his day, and even if this was all that he ever got, he’d be happy with that.

Lance tried to think of things he could say that sounded flirty, but it didn’t come naturally to him, and most mornings he ended up telling him about what they’d done the previous day.

He was sure that many people must have told Esteban all about the various tourist things in Paris, but he listened as though it was all brand-new information to him, fascinated by every word.

But Esteban was every bit as attentive with Max, and Max had the competitive edge, always flirting and joking, making Esteban laugh.

It was a beautiful laugh, and the only time Lance had made him laugh was when he’d spilt his coffee over himself. He’d drunk most of it, and what was left was cool enough that it didn’t burn him, but it had been embarrassing nonetheless. Esteban had cleaned him up, wiping at his lap as Lance had tried not to squirm too much. The only way that situation could have been worse was if he’d got a hard on while Esteban was touching him.

The others were talking, but Lance couldn’t focus on the conversation, he was too busy watching Esteban as he made a sandwich, his movements effortless and graceful, and Lance found himself wondering what Esteban would be like in bed.

“Sounds like a good plan, are you in? Lance?” Pascal waved his hand in front of his eyes, and Lance blinked, nodding even though he had no idea what he was agreeing to.

“Sorry?”

“Told you he wasn’t paying attention.” Pascal stuck his tongue out at Max, who smiled, shrugging as he sat back in his seat.

“Want to go play football in the park before class this afternoon?”

“Sure.” Lance blushed, he’d thought that he was hiding his crush on Esteban, but he wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all himself.

They paid for their food, Max still flirting with Esteban as the rest of them wandered towards the park.

Pascal walked alongside Lance, leaning in close so that Stoffel and Max didn’t hear what they were talking about. “The waiter, Esteban, he’s cute, isn’t he?”

“Please don’t tell me that you have a crush on him too?” Lance checked over his shoulder to make sure that Stoffel and Max were still a suitable distance away from them.

“No,” Pascal paused, a smirk on his face, “He’s too male.”

Lance laughed, wondering why he didn’t know that about Pascal, none of them were shy about discussing their sex lives, even if Lance was just nodding along and letting people assume that he wasn’t a virgin. Although usually it was Max doing most of the talking.

“The teaching assistant in our French history class is more my type.” Pascal smiled, and Lance gave him a playful nudge.

“She’s very pretty.”

“And very smart.” Pascal waggled his eyebrows, and Lance burst out laughing.

“I’ll find a way to distract the others so you can talk to her after class today.”

“Thanks, and if you want me to do the same for you and Esteban, you only have to say the word.”

“Every time I try and flirt I end up chickening out and talking about silly things.”

“Maybe it would be easier if it was just the two of you?”

“Maybe.”

“You should ask him if he wants to hang out sometime.” Pascal looked thoughtful, and then his eyes lit up. “We could have a party at the flat.”

Lance grinned, their flat didn’t even have space for the four of them, never mind inviting anyone else round, but the idea of seeing Esteban away from his work made his heart flutter with happiness.

“That sounds like a great idea.”

*

The class was interesting, and Lance had spent the entire time thinking about how he could give Pascal some alone time with Maya, the very pretty, and very smart, teaching assistant.

Max and Stoffel were texting each other during class, neither of them subtle about it, although Lance knew that these classes were here to justify the flimsy premise that their exchange had an academic purpose.

He felt sorry for Maya, she was passionate about history, but Lance was sure that Pascal was asking enough questions for the four of them.

And then fate handed Pascal the perfect opportunity to talk to his crush.

“I hope you enjoyed today’s class. If anyone wants to know more about the Battle of Crecy, I’ll be through in the library.”

Lance glanced over at Pascal to see him grinning, and Lance gave him a little nod, pushing him in the right direction.

“Go, I’ll keep these two busy.” Lance blushed when he realised how sexual it sounded, and Pascal snorted with laughter as he shoved his textbook into his bag, rushing after Maya as Max and Stoffel realised that the class had finished while they were messing around.

“Where’s Pascal?” Max asked, glancing around as the other exchange students wandered out, chatting away.

“He’s gone to ask a few more questions about today’s class, do you want to join him?” Lance knew that the answer would be no before he even asked, but this way it felt like the deception would be easier, and Max would be less likely to ask why Pascal went.

“No.” Max yawned, it had been a long day. “I can’t focus when I’m hungry, I’m going to head back and make dinner. You coming?”

“Sure.” Lance followed Stoffel out of the room, Max attached at the hip to Stoffel, as they had been since day one. Max dropped his textbook as he was elbowing Stoffel, Lance had no idea what they were whispering about, but Max found it hysterical. And then Lance realised that he didn’t have his textbook.

“Guys, I’ll catch you up. I left my textbook in the class.” Lance held his hands out to say ‘what am I like?’ before rushing back to the classroom.

He could hear Max and Stoffel chatting and laughing, their voices echoing down the corridor as he grabbed the book, and when he turned around to leave he saw a familiar face.

“Esteban?”

“Are you following me?”

Lance laughed, shaking his head as he wondered what Esteban thought of him if that was his first assumption, and he didn’t relax until Esteban was laughing too.

“I have no idea why you would think that.” Lance smiled, hoping that it sounded more joking than defensive.

“You’ve been to the café every day for the last two weeks.”

“I like your baguette.” Lance blushed, he didn’t mean it like that, but Esteban laughed, and he felt like he could do this. All he had to do was keep talking and joking.

“I have the best baguette.” Esteban laughed at his joke, and Lance couldn’t help but smile. “Are you here for beginner’s French?” Esteban looked confused, and Lance couldn’t believe that he was even more adorable.

“No, forgot my history textbook.”

“Oh.” There was a hint of disappointment in Esteban’s voice, and it filled Lance with hope that they could have something together.

Lance felt warm and fuzzy, and he wished that he’d said yes. But Esteban knew that he spoke fluent French, and he couldn’t think of a convincing reason to be in the beginner’s class.

“You’re a busy man, teaching and working in the café.”

“It’s just a few classes, in return for getting to live here for free.” Esteban smiled, and Lance felt his heart flutter from the sight of Esteban’s dorky grin.

“Impressive.”

“Thanks.”

Lance tried to think of something funny to say, anything to keep the conversation going, but the silence was growing and he was sure that Esteban thought he was strange.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you-“

“Yes?” Lance’s heart was pounding, had Esteban noticed him, was he going to ask him out?

“Your friend Max, does he just like to flirt or is he interested?”

“Just likes to flirt, he’s dating Stoffel,” Lance blurted out, before mentally slapping himself, he had no idea why he’d said that. Jealousy had got the better of him, and he wasn’t proud of himself, but it was too late to take it back.

“That’s a pity, he’s cute.”

“You must meet a lot of cute guys at the café?”

“Not really, most are tourists, and I’m not looking for a one-night stand.” Esteban covered his mouth. “Too much information.”

“No, it’s cool. I can relate.”

“Working two jobs and studying doesn’t leave a lot of time for dating, so when life hands me a cute guy on a platter, I’m inclined to take advantage of that.”

“We’re having a party on Friday if you want to come?” Lance knew that the guys wouldn’t say no to it, and it would give him a chance to try and flirt some more. “If you’re not working that is.”

“I’m free after six.”

Lance scribbled down his address on a scrap of paper that he had been using as a bookmark, and he felt his heart pounding as he put his number at the bottom.

“See you at seven?”

“See you then.” Esteban winked at Lance, leaving him unable to form a sentence, and he mumbled goodbye as Esteban’s class started arriving.

Lance couldn’t keep the grin off his face, in two days Esteban would be in his flat, and he’d have all the time he needed to try and win Esteban’s affection.

Now all he had to do was invite a few more people so the party so that it didn’t look like he’d done this just for Esteban.

With all the other exchange students, that should be easy.

The only real issue was going to be how many people could they fit in their flat.

***

Friday took a long time coming around. Even though Lance had seen Esteban every morning as they got breakfast, it wasn’t the same.

He’d noticed Esteban giving him little glances whenever Max and Stoffel did anything that made them look like a couple, which was pretty much everything that they did.

Lance was relieved that he wouldn’t have to come clean about his lie. As long as Max and Stoffel kept acting like that, and Lance was sure they would be even more affectionate once the party started, then Esteban would never have to know.

Pascal was thrashing him at table football, his mind distracted by thoughts of Esteban, and Max and Stoffel were wrestling on the sofa, both trying to annoy the other so that they could win the game.

Lance glanced at his watch for what felt like the hundredth time since they’d got back less than half an hour ago, the minute hand slowly creeping towards the number five, and Lance wondered if Esteban would actually show up.

“Did you invite Maya?” Lance asked, hoping that a conversation would distract him from his thoughts.

“Yes, but she’s working tonight.” Pascal smiled, and he used the opportunity to score a goal while Lance was listening to him.

“Sneaky.” Lance laughed, shaking his head as Pascal moved the slider to show that he’d won, five goals to zero.

“I win.” Pascal smiled, taking a sip of his beer as he reset the scores. “Best two out of three?”

“Sure.”

Lance was losing every bit as appallingly as he had the first time when there was a knock on the door, and he felt his heart pound at the thought of seeing Esteban again.

Pascal went to get the door since he was standing closest to it, and Lance found himself leaning against the wall to stop himself from falling over, his legs trembling at the sight of Esteban and his dorky grin.

“Hi.” Esteban waved, and the way that Max’s eyes lit up when he saw Esteban had Lance feeling jealous all over again. Pascal took Esteban’s coat, damp with rain, and Esteban slicked his wet hair out of his face, a single bead of water trickling down his forehead.

“Hi, do you want a beer?” Lance blurted it out, his nerves getting the better of him and he rushed to the kitchen, brushing past Pascal on the way out the room.

He returned with five beers, and when he handed Esteban his, their fingers met, lingering for a second, the sparks flying through his body as he stared into Esteban’s warm, soulful eyes.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Lance held up his bottle so they could toast, and his beer bubbled over at the same time as the clink of glass against glass, Lance rushing to catch the bubbles with his mouth.

“You’re a natural at that,” Max said, and everyone giggled, making Lance blush as he took a sip of beer to give himself a little confidence boost.

“He’s not the only one,” Stoffel said, nudging Max as Pascal balanced precariously on the edge of the sofa. It wasn’t meant for three, but the small folding chairs that sat around a table barely big enough for two people to eat, never mind four, weren’t comfy to sit on for any length of time.

The atmosphere relaxed after that, Lance challenging Esteban to a game of table football. He lost spectacularly, but it had given him a chance to talk to Esteban, find out where he was from, and what he was studying – culinary arts and restaurant management. One day he hoped to have his own place.

“So do you cook all the food at the café?”

“Not all of it, there are other people working there too, but some of it is mine.”

“I love a man who can cook,” Max said, winking at Esteban as he leaned back on the sofa, wrapping his arm around Stoffel’s shoulders, distracting him from the game so that he could win.

“It’ll taste even better now I know that you made it.” Lance smiled, and Esteban blushed, both of them standing awkwardly in silence.

“Do you guys want to play?” Stoffel asked, holding up the controller for the PlayStation.

“Sure.” Esteban wandered over, his long legs managing it in two steps.

“You can sit on my lap,” Max said, patting his thighs as Esteban laughed.

“I don’t think your boyfriend would approve of that.”

Max looked confused, and Lance felt his blood run cold until he realised that Esteban was joking, although it wasn’t a bad guess considering the way that Max and Stoffel acted around each other.

“We’re not dating,” Max said, and Esteban turned to look at Lance.

He could feel his cheeks burning, he should have told Esteban the truth before he showed up for the party, but Lance had hoped that some of the other exchange students would have been here too, sparing him this nightmare.

The guilt bubbled over, just like his beer had, and Lance knew that he had to tell the truth.

“I’m so sorry, I really like you and I thought that if I told you Max was taken I’d have a better chance with you, I’m so sorry that I lied.” Lance stood frozen to the spot, everyone staring at him, and he could feel the disappointment.

He ran out into the street, the rain soaking his flimsy t-shirt before he’d even taken two steps. He found himself heading for the café on autopilot, and he stopped when he realised that he had nowhere to go, but he couldn’t bear the thought of going back to the flat. Not while Esteban was still there.

And then someone rested their hand on his shoulder. He spun round to see Esteban standing there, his smile shining out.

“You’re not mad at me for lying?”

“No, I really like you too.”

Esteban leant in for a kiss, his moist lips felt like heaven against his own, and even though it was a chaste kiss, it set Lance’s soul on fire.

“My flat isn’t too far from here.” Esteban smiled, and Lance found himself grinning, reaching out to hold Esteban’s hand.

They strolled through the streets, the warm rain soaking them to their underwear, but they didn’t care, they were both grinning like idiots.

*

“Did you know?” Max looked between Stoffel and Pascal, both of them equally confused by the question.

“Know what?” Pascal reached out for his beer, hoping it would steady his nerves.

“That Lance was interested in Esteban?” Max reached out for his beer, his usual cheekiness absent. “I wouldn’t have flirted with him if I’d known Lance was interested. I wouldn’t do that to a friend.”

“Why did you say we weren’t dating?” Stoffel wriggled out from under Max’s arm, the tension growing even though Esteban had gone chasing after Lance, and he said he’d call if he couldn’t find him.

“Sorry?” Max looked confused, and Pascal sat back, sipping at his beer as he waited for the drama to erupt.

“You told Esteban that we weren’t dating?”

“We’re not dating?”

“What?” Stoffel looked like he was deciding whether to punch him or kiss him, and Max wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong. “We’ve been sleeping together for the last two weeks and you don’t think that qualifies as dating?”

Pascal gasped, and Max smiled, while Stoffel shot him a death glare that felt like he could actually kill if he really put his mind to it.

“Would you give us some space?” Max kept his voice calm and level, but his heart was pounding, how could he have missed the fact that Stoffel had read more into their relationship?

“I’m going to the library, hopefully Maya will be there after her class.” Pascal gave them a little smile as he slunk out of the flat, and no-one spoke until they heard the front door closing.

“I thought we were just having some fun.” Max reached out to hold Stoffel’s hand, and he relaxed when Stoffel didn’t pull away from him. “Do you really think I’d be flirting with other people if I thought we were dating?”

“You flirt with everyone, I just assumed that was what you were like.”

“When I’m with someone, I’m with them one hundred percent.” Max bit his lip, giving Stoffel’s hand a little squeeze.

“But what about when we have to go home?”

“There’s trains.” Max felt his heart flutter, he wanted Stoffel in his life, and he’d do whatever it took to make that happen. “I know we wouldn’t see each other as much but we could make it work. If you want that?”

Stoffel nodded, and Max leant in for a kiss, his lips sealing his unspoken promise. He would be the best boyfriend that he possibly could.

He was going to start by showing Stoffel how much he loved that body of his, and with no-one else in the flat, they could be as noisy as they liked.

*

Lance was still grinning when he got to Esteban’s flat, it was every bit as cramped as the flat that he was staying in, but there was a double bed.

The second the door shut behind them, Esteban’s lips were on his, hands grabbing at soaked clothing and leaving them both breathless.

“We should really get out of these wet clothes,” Esteban said, grinning as he tugged at Lance’s t-shirt, trailing little kisses down the side of his neck. His cock twitched in anticipation, pressing against the rough, sodden fabric and Lance groaned out loud.

He rushed to strip out of his wet clothes as Esteban did the same, both of them smiling and blushing as they ended up standing naked, goose bumps rippling over their skin as they stared at each other.

Esteban stroked at Lance’s abs, his muscles rippling as his cold fingers traced patterns against his skin, and Lance rushed in for another kiss, letting Esteban lead him to the bed. Lance stumbled backwards and they landed as a heap of lanky limbs, their cocks brushing against each other’s, sending sparks through his body.

The kisses got more passionate, and Lance didn’t know where to start, his hands were resting at the small of Esteban’s back, his soft skin like heaven to touch. He slid them lower, cupping Esteban’s perfect rear and the playful growl that he got in return made him braver, spreading his legs and wrapping them around Esteban’s waist.

He felt Esteban’s hard cock nudge against his hole, and he froze, Esteban still licking into his slack mouth for a second.

“Are you okay? Is this going too fast for you?”

“Yes. No… maybe?” Lance groaned, burying his head against Esteban’s shoulder.

“Talk to me?” Esteban sat back so that he could look into Lance’s eyes, stroking the side of his face as he waited for him to speak.

“I want you.” Lance smiled, and Esteban leant in to kiss the end of his nose.

“I want you too.”

“I want you inside me.” Lance felt his cheeks burn, but it had been all he could think about for some time now, what it would feel like to have someone make love to him. “But I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“We can go slow, it’s more fun that way.” Esteban grinned, leaning in for a sloppy kiss before sliding lower, sucking a bruise onto Lance’s collar bone, earning him a little growl. His thumb was brushing over his nipple, and his other hand was stroking the side of his hip, running his fingers over his tattoo.

Lance writhed on the bed, arching his back as Esteban’s soft lips made their way down to his abs, his tongue flicking out as Lance’s moans got needier.

Esteban’s long arm reached down off the bed, plucking out something from underneath, and Lance recognised the small bottle and the little foil square. Lube and a condom.

“We don’t have to do this, we can just kiss and cuddle?”

“I want it if you want it.” Lance spread his legs wider, the cool breeze over his hole making him shiver, and Esteban wasted no time in ducking down so that he could lick the tip of his cock, smiling as he took Lance’s breath away. “You’re so beautiful.”

Lance tried to talk, but it came out as little more than a mumble. “So are you.”

He lost all power of speech once Esteban wrapped his lips around him, sucking away as Lance lay gasping on the bed, his knuckles white as he clutched at the sheets, and it wasn’t until Esteban reached up to hold his hand, intertwining their fingers, that he relaxed.

Esteban’s slick fingers were circling his hole, gently pressing as Lance arched his hips, and Esteban obliged, sliding a finger inside him as Lance tensed around him.

“Relax.” The word was muffled by Lance’s cock, but he understood, and he took a deep breath, relaxing into the warmth that was spreading through his body, the strange sensation making way to pleasure as he begged for more.

The feeling of Esteban inside him was overwhelming, and he lay floating on a cloud of endorphins, enjoying every second of it as his body relaxed, letting Esteban work him open until he could wait no longer.

“Fuck me, fuck me now.”

Esteban kept sucking him while he slid the condom on, and Lance forced himself to open his eyes, admiring the view of Esteban’s lithe frame as he got into position, his arms bulging with veins.

Lance dragged Esteban into a messy kiss, teeth and tongues clashing as Esteban thrust in, bottoming out in one smooth thrust as Lance gasped in pleasure, his legs clamped around Esteban’s waist and pressing their bodies together.

They stared into each other’s eyes for a second, as though time had stopped, freezing them in that moment of eternal pleasure.

And then Lance felt his muscles twitch, Esteban’s cock nudging that spot and leaving him seeing stars, and he knew that he wanted more.

Esteban flew into action, long, slow thrusts that made Lance’s toes curl, withdrawing until just the tip was left, and then sliding back in, leaving Lance desperate for more.

Each thrust pushed him closer to a spectacular orgasm, his muscles tensing as his eyes fell shut, his hard cock leaking as it rubbed against Esteban’s stomach.

“More.” Lance came with a jolt, leaving them both sticky, his body clenching around Esteban as he collapsed on top of him, gasping through his own orgasm, and Lance milked every last drop out of him.

“Fuck, that was amazing.” Esteban’s breath was warm against his ear, and Lance could feel his heart pounding against his, their bodies joined in one happy, sticky mess. “Feel good?”

Lance couldn’t talk, he was still dizzy from his orgasm, but he hoped his giant grin said it all.

They lay cuddled together until the sun came up, chatting and kissing.

Both of them were thinking the same thing – they never wanted this to end.

*****

Two years later…

Lance stepped off the plane at Charles de Gaulle airport, finally back in France for the first time since he’d been here as an exchange student.

Both he and Esteban had been so busy studying and working that they hadn’t found time to visit each other. But now, Lance was finished with uni, and he was about to start his new job, in Paris.

He scanned the crowd that was waiting at the exit, and he felt his heart race when he saw Esteban standing there, his grin shining out as he rushed up for a hug.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

Lance held him tight, inhaling the scent of fresh bread that seemed to surround Esteban.

“Are you ready to see our new flat?”

Esteban had done all the hard work, looking at places and dealing with the paperwork, and Lance couldn’t wait to actually see it.

“We got the invite for Max and Stoffel’s wedding today.” Esteban smiled, his hands trembling as he fumbled for something in his pocket. “I was going to wait until we were in front of the Champs-Élysées to do this, but that’s such a cliché and I don’t want to wait any longer.”

Esteban dropped down on to one knee as a crowd gathered around them, holding out a plain silver band that glinted in the sunlight.

“Lance, will you marry me?”

Lance gasped, his mouth hanging open in shock as he stared at Esteban. He wanted to jump up and down with joy, and it took him a minute to get his mouth to work enough to give him an answer.

“Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> *and obviously none of this actually happened, it is all a figment of my twisted imagination ;)


End file.
